“Escape?” Dagmar asked.
“I’m sorry, what was that, dear?”
“You said as soon as he saw Rhi escape through that portal. She was escaping the Nolwenns? Is that what you’re telling us? Are they all escaping?”
“You ask too many questions,” the queen accused Dagmar.
“No. I’m certain I ask just the right amount.”
“What is happening, Rhiannon?” Talaith snapped.
“All you need to know is that the children—of their own free will—are on the move to a safer place.”
“Safer place? Safer than here?” Annwyl asked.
“Much safer. They’ll be hidden until they’re ready.”
“Ready for what?”
“Only the gods can answer that, and I am no god. Besides, we have more important things to do.”
“What things?”
Celyn stumbled forward when the door he rested against was shoved, the wood pulled from the hinges. He looked at his sister and together, they rammed their bodies backward, shoving the door closed again.
“Ow! You rude bastards!” Gwenvael yelped from the other side.
Rhiannon pointed a finger at the human women. “Not a word,” she whispered to them. “We’ll talk more later.”
Rhiannon nodded at Celyn. “Let them in.”
Celyn and his sister stepped back, and Celyn removed the now-damaged door and set it aside. Fearghus, Briec, Gwenvael, Éibhear, and their father, Bercelak, walked in.
“What’s going on?” Fearghus demanded.
Rhiannon opened her mouth to make up some lie that Fearghus would never believe in an eon, but Annwyl cut her off by giving a casual shrug and stating, “I took a few heads this morning, and Dagmar is being completely irrational about it.”
“Yes,” Dagmar said drily. “Because I’m known for being so irrational when you do something so incredibly stupid.”
“See?” Briec said, triumphant. “Even the devious human knows what you did was stupid.”
“My sweet Dagmar is not devious,” Gwenvael happily corrected. “She’s conniving and cold-blooded in a way that I adore like the suns.”
Dagmar grinned. “Thank you for that, my love.”
“You’re so very welcome, my sweet.”
Fearghus walked past his brother and, as he did, he grabbed him by his ridiculously long hair and threw him backward, sending him flying through the now permanently open doorway.
“You heartless bastard!”
Fearghus brushed the back of his hand against Annwyl’s cheek. “Want to tell me what happened?”
“The meeting with Baron Pyrs was a setup. Priestess Abertha was there, waiting to talk to me as she put it. But really, all she wanted to do was piss me off so much that I cut her nasty little head from her nasty little body.”
“But you didn’t?”
Annwyl held Fearghus’s left hand in her own, her fingers tracing the scars and veins on the back. “I knew that’s what she wanted. You know how I hate giving anyone what they want.”
“She wanted you to kill her?” Bercelak asked.
“She wanted to be a martyr to her god. I kill her and everyone turns on me. I wasn’t going to give her that. And I only killed her soldiers because they wouldn’t let me leave.”
Dagmar patted Annwyl’s shoulder. “That’s very good, Annwyl. You handled that situation well.”
Eyes narrowed, Annwyl snarled, “I’m not one of your dogs, Dagmar.”
“I never said you were.”
“Then stop treating me like you’re about to toss me a bone!”
“That’s enough!” Rhiannon clapped her hands together. “Stop it. Both of you. We’re not going to start turning on each other now. After everything we’ve been through.”
Gwenvael, who’d picked himself up and come back in the room, opened his mouth to speak, but Rhiannon immediately raised a warning finger. “And not one gods-damn word from you. Not one.”
Celyn’s cousin closed his mouth and stepped behind Brannie, as if she’d ever bother protecting the big idiot from his own mother.
“Now,” Rhiannon went on, “all of this with Abertha and that family of hers is a clear sign that they’re coming after this kingdom. Not with sword and soldier, but with their god. Although I’m sure sword and soldier are soon to follow. But are we going to wait for that? Are we going to wait to see what they do next? Or are we going to start planning now? So that we’re ready?”
Fearghus eyed his mother, a small smirk on his lips. “What are you planning, Mum?”
Rhiannon grinned. “I’m so glad you asked! I’ve come up with something brilliant!” She clapped her hands together. “But I need a map. A big one.”
Chapter Six
Celyn thought he could make a run for it when the discussion was moved to the war room, Morfyd and Brastias now included in the discussion, but Bercelak shoved Celyn and Brannie inside with the rest of them, “You two should probably hear this.”
Gods, Celyn couldn’t get out of this. And he kept trying! It wasn’t like he wasn’t trying!
“I had the most brilliant idea today,” Rhiannon announced as she unrolled one of the large maps on the big desk at the front of the room. “I’ve been thinking about alliances a lot lately.”
“Perhaps my father should be here for this,” Celyn suggested.
“I’m sorry, what was that, dear?”
“You said as soon as he saw Rhi escape through that portal. She was escaping the Nolwenns? Is that what you’re telling us? Are they all escaping?”
“You ask too many questions,” the queen accused Dagmar.
“No. I’m certain I ask just the right amount.”
“What is happening, Rhiannon?” Talaith snapped.
“All you need to know is that the children—of their own free will—are on the move to a safer place.”
“Safer place? Safer than here?” Annwyl asked.
“Much safer. They’ll be hidden until they’re ready.”
“Ready for what?”
“Only the gods can answer that, and I am no god. Besides, we have more important things to do.”
“What things?”
Celyn stumbled forward when the door he rested against was shoved, the wood pulled from the hinges. He looked at his sister and together, they rammed their bodies backward, shoving the door closed again.
“Ow! You rude bastards!” Gwenvael yelped from the other side.
Rhiannon pointed a finger at the human women. “Not a word,” she whispered to them. “We’ll talk more later.”
Rhiannon nodded at Celyn. “Let them in.”
Celyn and his sister stepped back, and Celyn removed the now-damaged door and set it aside. Fearghus, Briec, Gwenvael, Éibhear, and their father, Bercelak, walked in.
“What’s going on?” Fearghus demanded.
Rhiannon opened her mouth to make up some lie that Fearghus would never believe in an eon, but Annwyl cut her off by giving a casual shrug and stating, “I took a few heads this morning, and Dagmar is being completely irrational about it.”
“Yes,” Dagmar said drily. “Because I’m known for being so irrational when you do something so incredibly stupid.”
“See?” Briec said, triumphant. “Even the devious human knows what you did was stupid.”
“My sweet Dagmar is not devious,” Gwenvael happily corrected. “She’s conniving and cold-blooded in a way that I adore like the suns.”
Dagmar grinned. “Thank you for that, my love.”
“You’re so very welcome, my sweet.”
Fearghus walked past his brother and, as he did, he grabbed him by his ridiculously long hair and threw him backward, sending him flying through the now permanently open doorway.
“You heartless bastard!”
Fearghus brushed the back of his hand against Annwyl’s cheek. “Want to tell me what happened?”
“The meeting with Baron Pyrs was a setup. Priestess Abertha was there, waiting to talk to me as she put it. But really, all she wanted to do was piss me off so much that I cut her nasty little head from her nasty little body.”
“But you didn’t?”
Annwyl held Fearghus’s left hand in her own, her fingers tracing the scars and veins on the back. “I knew that’s what she wanted. You know how I hate giving anyone what they want.”
“She wanted you to kill her?” Bercelak asked.
“She wanted to be a martyr to her god. I kill her and everyone turns on me. I wasn’t going to give her that. And I only killed her soldiers because they wouldn’t let me leave.”
Dagmar patted Annwyl’s shoulder. “That’s very good, Annwyl. You handled that situation well.”
Eyes narrowed, Annwyl snarled, “I’m not one of your dogs, Dagmar.”
“I never said you were.”
“Then stop treating me like you’re about to toss me a bone!”
“That’s enough!” Rhiannon clapped her hands together. “Stop it. Both of you. We’re not going to start turning on each other now. After everything we’ve been through.”
Gwenvael, who’d picked himself up and come back in the room, opened his mouth to speak, but Rhiannon immediately raised a warning finger. “And not one gods-damn word from you. Not one.”
Celyn’s cousin closed his mouth and stepped behind Brannie, as if she’d ever bother protecting the big idiot from his own mother.
“Now,” Rhiannon went on, “all of this with Abertha and that family of hers is a clear sign that they’re coming after this kingdom. Not with sword and soldier, but with their god. Although I’m sure sword and soldier are soon to follow. But are we going to wait for that? Are we going to wait to see what they do next? Or are we going to start planning now? So that we’re ready?”
Fearghus eyed his mother, a small smirk on his lips. “What are you planning, Mum?”
Rhiannon grinned. “I’m so glad you asked! I’ve come up with something brilliant!” She clapped her hands together. “But I need a map. A big one.”
Chapter Six
Celyn thought he could make a run for it when the discussion was moved to the war room, Morfyd and Brastias now included in the discussion, but Bercelak shoved Celyn and Brannie inside with the rest of them, “You two should probably hear this.”
Gods, Celyn couldn’t get out of this. And he kept trying! It wasn’t like he wasn’t trying!
“I had the most brilliant idea today,” Rhiannon announced as she unrolled one of the large maps on the big desk at the front of the room. “I’ve been thinking about alliances a lot lately.”
“Perhaps my father should be here for this,” Celyn suggested.
